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Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency
Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency
Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency
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Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency

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If you're not in the holiday mood, Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency will make sure you stand pat. Marley's dead. Scrooge's on the wagon. And one cockeyed Christmas Eve, someone or something is needling Ebenezer to solve his old partner's murder. In fact, some holiday spirits gather to help Scrooge sort the straight dope from the humbug before the old detective winds up being shovel-ready himself.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherKen Harmon
Release dateSep 6, 2019
ISBN9788834179208
Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency

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    Book preview

    Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency - Ken Harmon

    Ken Harmon

    Scrooge & Marley Detective Agency

    UUID: d56b6002-cd85-11e9-91b5-1166c27e52f1

    This ebook was created with StreetLib Write

    http://write.streetlib.com

    Table of contents

    Chapter 1 - On the Rocks

    Chapter 2 - A Shot

    Chapter 3 - Shaken

    Chapter 4 - Gin

    Chapter 5 - 100 Proof

    Chapter 6 - Scotch

    Chapter 7 - With a Twist

    Chapter 8 - Neat

    Chapter 9 - Bourbon

    Chapter 10 - A Double

    Chapter 11 - Chaser

    Acknowledgments

    Based on Characters

    Created by

    Charles Dickens

    in

    A Christmas Carol

    Cover Design

    by

    Jon Buckley

    JONBUCKLEY.COM

    Also by

    Ken Harmon

    The Fat Man - A Tale of North Pole Noir

    Alas, Pulp Yorick - The Jester's Hat Always Ringeth Twice

    The English Major Mafia

    "It came like magic in a pint bottle;

    it was not ecstasy, but it was comfort"

    Little Dorritt

    by

    Charles Dickens

    "When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it.

    It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him."

    The Maltese Falcon

    Screenplay by

    John Huston

    Based on the novel by Dashiell Hammett

    Chapter 1 - On the Rocks

    Marley was dead.

    To begin with.

    No doubt about it, brother. There was a slick of bloody brains in the alley, black clothes standing around a pine box, and even a few tears. All of that was proof that old Jake Marley had kicked his habit for fresh air for good.

    Scrooge know Marley was kaput? Sure, he did. Marley’s exit kicked Scrooge harder than if he tried milking a bull. Back when he and Marley first hung up their shingle, Scrooge was usually tight as a tick and swore that the Barleycorn helped him see clues other guys missed. The booze generally improved Scrooge’s humor, too. Unless you were guilty. If you were guilty, katy-bar the door because Scrooge’s buzz could also take the edge off any scruples he might have had about asking questions with his knuckles. There were times Scrooge might not be able to see through a ladder, but he knew guilty when he saw it and considered habeas corpus a luxury to a couple of $25 a day dicks.

    Scrooge and Marley made a good team. Everybody said it. Marley was the brains, Scrooge the brawn. Marley was a glad-hander, never met a stranger. As a rookie cop, Marley caught Colt Fagan red-handed with a satchel full of recently liberated rubies. Cap Fezziwig pinned a ribbon on Marley’s chest and Jake played the white knight every day after that.

    Marley was smart enough to know he wasn’t as good as his press. He and Scrooge had been rookies on the beat and helped each other through more than a few scrapes. Marley was ambitious and thought he and Scrooge could make a living as private eyes. Scrooge could drink to that. A month later, the two partners painted Scrooge and Marley Detective Agency on the pebble stone glass, hired a blonde named Bobbie Cratchit for dictation and scenery, and opened for business. Marley went to the parties and the big spreads to let the citizenry know that he and Scrooge would take all comers.

    Any case will be a closed one when me and Eb get through with it. Marley would say. Marley took a good picture, too. Marley looked like a Hollywood detective and the desperate, sneaky, curious and discreet came to him with their trouble. Trouble was Scrooge’s side of the street.

    Scrooge was the one to slip behind a shadow and take a good look at the stains of one’s dirty laundry. Scrooge heard the promises made with a kiss or at the end of a barrel. Scrooge would bring the bits back to Marley and they’d put the pieces together. Scrooge didn’t mind that Marley got the headlines and Marley could have cared less that his partner rarely showed up before noon. If he needed Scrooge, they had a system: Two None One. Two rings. None. Then one ring. Then they’d wait a beat and call back until the other picked up. The same thing with knocks on the door. It was their signal that something important was afoot and to stop what you’re doing.

    Scrooge and Marley were the best detectives in town. When they solved something, it stayed solved. The money rolled in and everything worked like a charm.

    Until that Christmas Eve.

    When Marley got traded to the devils. Scrooge laid off the sauce, got stone-cold-turkey sober, and our little neck of the woods gained one prickly son of a bitch – especially when Christmas Eve rolled around.

    Of all the nights in the world, Marley offered to tail a roughneck named Scab Drood and give Scrooge Christmas Eve off. Since this present was partnered with a bottle of Scotch, Scrooge accepted. Later that night, there was a knock on Scrooge’s door and it wasn’t of the Two None One variety.

    Marley’s dead, the bluecoat said when Scrooge opened up. Looks like he did a half-gainer off the old Cuddy building on Westlock. It’ll be a closed casket, I can tell you that much. Lieutenant Murdstone thinks you should come down there. In fact, he insists. Sorry for the bad news. Merry Christmas.

    Ebenezer Scrooge had been sober ever since.

    All of that happened two years ago, but to Scrooge, and his thirst, it seemed a lot longer. A potential fee was across the desk, but, this particular Christmas Eve, Scrooge couldn’t focus on the guy’s blubbering.

    She just seems so different now, Mr. Weller said. Or Teller – Scrooge didn’t try too hard to catch the name. And with Christmas coming, it just breaks my heart to think she might not love me anymore, you know? So before I start the new year, I gotta know if she’s seeing someone else or what’s going on.

    Leave her now, Scrooge said.

    Weller or Teller choked on a snoot-full of snot. What?

    Save yourself money and me the trouble of telling you what we both already know, Scrooge said. She’s over you, pal. How many times you call home today? You know she’s not there fixing the Christmas dinner. She’s hanging her stockings on someone else’s fireplace and working every angle of the Naughty List. I’ve learned that the holidays bring out the worst in people. Folks bicker over money and whether they’re putting marshmallows on the yams. Santa’s not going to bring them a new life, so they steal one from a stranger, a brief ho-ho-ho with a warm body at the office shindig. They start carving the turkey and then each other. Happens every year. My hunch is whoever is decking your wife’s halls is married, too, probably with kids. The love birds are either biding their time to get through the holidays without a messy break-up or they are both satisfied with a few minutes here and there. Either way, she’s not going to look at you, bub, and see her heart’s true love. When she goes to make gift returns or shop, pack up and don’t look back. It’s the only way you’ll have anything close to a happy new year.

    Weller or Teller’s mouth hung open like he had been clocked in the third round, so Scrooge decided to wrap it up and put a bow on it. "I know this advice doesn’t make for a Merry Christmas, but coming in here and asking me to spy on your ever-lovin’ is not exactly Gift of the Magi material either. Leave Christmas out of it, mister. It’s just another day. I don’t want to take your money, bub. Get out, get even and get on with your life. That’s the best you’re ever going to do."

    Someone down the hall of Scrooge and Marley’s building had a radio on. ‘Joy to the World’ was playing but it wasn’t sticking to Weller or Teller. The poor schlep gave Scrooge a feeble nod and stumbled out into the season. He was wiser, maybe, but it didn’t look to get him very far.

    Maybe you should start answering Advice to the Lovelorn, uncle. I’d buy stock in sleeping pills and nooses and retire rich.

    The last person in the world Scrooge wanted to deal with was his nephew, Fred. Fred was always just a little bit too chipper for Scrooge’s taste. Plus, the boy was the spitting image of Scrooge’s baby sister, Fan. Just the

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